I’m getting old

Seriously. I can’t find an excuse for this.

I just finished typing up a lengthy post about a particular topic, and as I was viewing the penultimate draft, I decided to click on one of the links at the bottom – you know, the ones that show potentially related content? Only to find that I had already tackled pretty much the exact same details in the earlier post.

Now, I might have felt better about this, if the previous one had not been from a mere 40 days ago! I’m fine with revisiting topics that I covered several years back, or if something relevant appeared recently, but this one’s still lukewarm! Worse, I really wasn’t registering that I’d just covered all the points that I spent a couple of hours typing up. It’s a little scary.

This is one of the problems with maintaining a blog; sometimes it’s a struggle to find something interesting that you haven’t already done, and I understand why a lot of people have simply bowed out of the game. I’ve slowed down a bit on my pseudo-philosophical posts, at least to my perception, because I’m not finding that many new topics to talk about. And this is not a good thing as winter rolls in, since filling in with bugs is a lot harder right now.

But at least I caught it, so there’s that. In the future, I could do some searches on keywords and make sure that I didn’t already do the same damn thing yesterday. If I remember to…

Or I could get rid of that related-posts widget below, and at least avoid linking directly to them.

Macro photography, part nine: Changes

For the past two and a half years, I’ve been using a specialized rig for macro lighting, one that produced dependable and pretty damn good results. But it was not to last. The Sunpak FP38 flat panel flash is a surprisingly neat little package, but like everything that I ever really like in photography, it’s been discontinued, and I knew it was only a matter of time before I had to find something else. Through a stupid move (always check voltage on the AC power unit before plugging it in,) I hastened that fateful day by blowing a capacitor, which is the heart of any flash unit, and until/unless I can find a replacement, I have to work with something else.

My workhorse flash unit is the Metz 40MZ-3i (a model number I can never remember,) which is a slick little unit selling for half the price or less than the Canon models with similar capabilities. It has a lot of power, numerous creative options, and best of all, it has manual output and can be adjusted in 1/3 stops through a wide range of light. This makes it great for any demanding lighting situations. But, like all unmodified flash units, it produces a spotlight effect, bright highlights and harsh shadows, which is why I went with the flat-panel flash and softbox in the first place. I’ve used the Metz with a Lumiquest Big Bounce diffuser, which worked fine, except that the Lumiquest is heavy and bulky, and had to be strapped up into macro position because the tilting flash head of the Metz wouldn’t support its weight in the position necessary for close work.

Metz Mecablitz 40MX-3i with homemade bounce attachmentSo the other day, I tried out another homemade option. To make lighting less harsh, it needs to be spread out and diffused a bit, preferably coming from a broader area rather than the small point source of the flash tube or the scatter panel right in front of it. This can be done by a) bouncing it off of a wider reflective panel, like an umbrella or a ceiling; b) sending it through diffusing material like thin white cloth or tissue paper; or c) both. Because I was doing macro work in close quarters, especially in ‘the field’ where the flash unit usually has to move with the camera, the distance for bouncing is limited; it would also be nice if the rig could pack into a camera bag easily. So this is the current experiment, a very simple deal. Two arms hold the bounce panel a short distance from the head, at an angle that accommodates macro work.

One distinctive change that I made over the flat-panel rig was the reflector, which is round now. This will produce a round highlight from any highly reflective surface that I photograph, rather than the curious square ‘window-pane’ that the Sunpak showed. While minor, able to be seen only if someone was paying close attention to the shape of the highlight in the eyes of something in my photos, it always bothered me when it showed up. So I made the reflector panel round and painted all other surfaces black so they wouldn’t throw stray reflections.

Metz Mecablita 40MZ-3i with homemade bounce unitIt’s all constructed out of mat material, the same stuff used in picture frames, basically stiff paperboard – I had some black stuff with dingy ‘core’ color instead of bright white, which made it unusable, really (always buy bright white core stuff.) The reverse surface is matte white, which I made brighter and more reflective by putting clear packing tape over it in a circle, then painting the surrounding bits black – the circle measures 11cm across. While I could easily put some hook-n-loop patches on it to hold it in place, right now I’m just using a rubber band, which is more than adequate for the negligible weight. And the arms are attached with fabric ‘hinges’ so they’ll fold flat when not in use.

So with all that, how does it work?

Well, in the previous post, the two assassin bug images and the one with the spider and prey were all taken with it – meaning the spider one was taken while upside-down. For close work it seems to do pretty well, though I’m thinking the reflector panel might have to be a little bigger. But let’s take a look at how it works with a larger, more distant subject.

I mentioned before that I’m working on a pond which will have multiple pools fed through waterfalls, and one of the smaller pools has been cast in concrete and sits in the yard next to the big pond liner, which has been occupied by frogs most of the season now. With regular rains, the little pool has remained filled with water, and one of the smaller frogs has taken a shine to it.

unidentified frog in small pool with autumn leaf
This shot was taken by ambient light on an overcast day, and the pool doesn’t get direct sunlight anyway. But it’s the fartsiest one, and good for comparison. The next two are detail shots with the new flash attachment.

unidentified frog up close, using homemade reflector
Now, penetrating the water wasn’t really expected, and I’d need a really broad reflector (like a meter or so) to come close to the ambient light effect, which wasn’t the goal for this device. I probably should have taken the device off and done a few shots with direct flash, just for comparison, but catching the frog during its brief, shy appearances is tricky enough – several previous attempts have failed. So let’s take a close look at the effect from the round reflector.

detail shot showing reflection of reflector
This is a rarer subject, because due to the water adhering to the entire frog, every surface is reflective, but that’s the trickiest and most demanding type of subject. Thus, there are highlights in several areas, but if we look to the eyes, we can see how it all works. The round reflector is clear, and much less obtrusive than the former square one – but there’s a few other traits too. The very faint reflection from the arms I think I can cope with, but the flash head itself peeked into the shot for a secondary highlight – I might have to put up a small shielding panel for that. And the head has a distinctive reflection in the reflector, putting a bright highlight in the middle of the round patch. Hmmmmm.

To be sure, this is only going to show in circumstances where I’m very close to an eye, or something comparably reflective and smooth like that, though it happens often enough in my pursuits. But what about the more generic subjects?

possible board-nosed weevil Entiminae
This unidentified weevil, possibly one of the broad-nosed weevil subfamily (Entiminae,) was caught one evening when I was chasing spider food, so it served as a test subject briefly before I let it go. Mixed results here: I like the soft light across most of the body, but the shadows off to the right are a bit deep, indicative of light from one direction – it’s easy to tell where the flash was located. Perhaps a bigger reflector is in order, but it’s worth noting that the diffuser for the flat-panel unit was only 16cm in width, five more than this, so I think this is only indicative of having the flash too far off to the side rather than above the subject; a second light source is often useful in such circumstances, if difficult to implement in a rig that can he handheld.

A major plus with the Metz, and the primary reason why I wanted to adapt it, is the recharge time. The Sunpak flash used four flash tubes and a fixed output – the light was always the same, and it worked well for the f16 aperture setting I liked to use for macro work. But it took several seconds to recharge, so quick sequences were out of the question. The Metz, while still using four AA batteries like the Sunpak, can be set for lower output, and at the settings I normally use for macro it can recharge almost instantly; the capacitors charge up for full output, but I’m often using 1/8 that, give or take, so the capacitors only discharge fractionally and can fire off several times before total discharge, while the batteries are working to keep them at full. This means I can do sequential shots and faster frames.

So for now, I’ll maintain things the way they are and keep experimenting; we’ll see if the rig has to be adapted more, or just some slight changes in habits. Plus, with the potential of higher output, I can start shooting at smaller apertures too.

Good help is hard to find – sometimes

pale green assassin bug Zelus luridus foreleg shot
While looking up details for an earlier post I came across a curious trait of this particular species of assassin bug, and decided I’d like to try and get shots of it in action. I have been too lucky lately, and thought this luck might hold, but alas…

Pale green assassin bugs (Zelus luridus,) seen in several recent posts, are spindly little insects usually measuring less than 20mm in body length as adults, so roughly twice as long as a housefly, and on first glance they might give the impression of being spiders. You’d have to look really closely to see that their legs, especially their forelegs, are covered with short hairs, and even closer to find that they glisten. This glistening is due to a secretion of the bug, and is apparently sticky to some degree; my source of this information likened it to the stalks of a sundew plant, seen below, which snares arthropod victims to digest as a source of food.

threadleaf sundew Drosera filiformis
extreme closeup of pale green assassin bug Zelus luridus forelegA closer look at the insect’s leg is seen at right – this is one that I captured and kept in the same terrarium with the magnolia green jumping spiders until I could arrange some particular photos. It would have been nice to get video of one capturing its food, but extremely difficult; being there at just the right moment, with adequate lighting and the camera focused, while the assassin snagged some prey in unobscured view, would be demanding to say the least. In fact, despite finding this species all over the place for the past several years, I think I’ve seen it with prey maybe twice – one of those is seen here.

Even while provided with a variety of food insects in an enclosed area, I never saw the assassin with a capture at all, so I did these detail shots yesterday and then released it. Now, this was a nice set of controlled conditions, with a captive subject that was never more than 15cm from a food source (usually quite a selection of them) – imagine doing something like stalking one of these in ‘the wild’ and hoping to snag action shots as it successfully captured its prey. I imagine it’s an activity for those who find watching paint dry to be too hectic…

In contrast, the magnolia green jumping spiders (Lyssomanes viridis) have been surprisingly easy to work with, even while possessing the typical jumping spider behavior of wandering around frequently. I’ve learned that this species is a little more sedate, tending to lie in wait and ambush prey that comes close, but I’ve seen several captures, including as I sat and waited for the assassin to partake of the same collection of food insects that I most recently introduced into the terrarium. Even more interestingly, I’ve spotted them with prey in the yard twice recently, one of those just yesterday before I even got the assassin shots above.

magnolia green jumping spider Lyssomanes viridis with unidentified midge prey
The gardenia bushes, planted just last year as we moved in, have proven to be a favorite for several spider species, but the magnolia jumpers really like hanging out on the undersides of the leaves, and that’s where I spotted and photographed this one. This image is actually inverted; I shot it upside-down looking up at the underside of the leaf, which explains all the debris on the leaf, since this one was close enough to the ground to catch all the splatter from the rain (there’s no grass in that area at all, just bare ground.) The shooting position was so awkward I didn’t even realize the spider had prey until I unloaded the memory card.

And, upon writing this, I realized I hadn’t gotten one of the shots I’ve been thinking of for weeks, and (yes, late at night) decided to see if I could snag a quick one while I was on-topic. It’s raining out, so you can see my (pointless and possibly psychotic) dedication to the blog. The subject seen above was still in place, but that debris messed with my plans too much, so I found another after a brief search, this one on the struggling remnants of The Girlfriend’s lilies (same one seen here.)

magnolia green jumping spider Lyssomanes viridis on underside of lily leaf
This is actually the easiest way to find the littler buggers: shine a flashlight up at the underside of the leaves. It’s best at night of course, but still works during the day, and this one was done with my headlamp propped up underneath the plant, allowing me a decent shutter speed that wouldn’t even have required the tripod – since I was only shooting a shadow, depth wasn’t needed and f4 was adequate to pull off 1/100 second at ISO 200. I had to time it between the vibrations of the raindrops, though.

The jumpers have been a lot more cooperative than the assassins (there’s a sentence that desperately needs its context,) so we’ll continue with them. During one session, the spider turned away from me and ruined my chance at getting those googly eyes in motion, but presented another opportunity: seeing the eyes from the side, through the exoskeleton.

magnolia green jumping spider Lyssomanes viridis eye seen from side through exoskeleton
Don’t ask me what purpose that strawberry-blonde haircut serves, but beneath it, we can see a tan and a dark patch joined; these are actually the eye of the spider, which moves internally and isn’t always visible from this vantage. I’m going to rashly assume that the spider (or this eye, anyway) is looking up and to the left, pressing its eye against the side of the cephalothorax right in front of us. Yes, I know this is a weird thing to see; you don’t come here for latté and kittycats.

And one last one, because.

magnolia green jumping spider Lyssomanes viridis showing fangs
As threatening as this looks, it’s not anything even remotely aggressive, but simply the spider moving those fangs out of the way to clean a leg in its mouth, and I can’t even estimate how small those really are, since the entire spider is about 5mm in body length – safe to say you aren’t likely to feel anything even if it did try to bite. This, by the way, is the first spider species I’ve seen that did not have reddish-brown chelicerae. Even the two centipede species that I’ve gotten detailed shots of had modeled the same color.

But yeah, only six eyes – not every spider has eight.

Monday color 41

sweetgum Liquidambar styraciflua leaves getting ready for fallToday, a recent one, taken a few days back with the others but saved for this special occasion. The mix of colors on the same sweetgum tree (Liquidambar styraciflua,) combined with the backlighting and the clear blue sky photobombing from the rear, made this an obvious choice. A bit too complicated for high art, but I’m a low art kind of guy anyway, and I wouldn’t want to disturb everyone that’s gotten used to that. Shocks like that are not good for your health.

* Which isn’t to imply that they’re bad for it either. We have a lot of speech patterns that generate unwarranted assumptions…

They’re coming… maybe

iridium flare over Lake Washington
I suddenly realized that the term, “meteorology,” with its inherent inaccuracies, must have come from the predictions for meteor showers, since only once has the claim of a “good storm” come true in my experience. An awful lot of times, when I’ve gone out specifically to view one during peak times, I’ve seen nothing.

With that pessimistic opening, I can say that the Leonids storm is expected to peak Tuesday evening, and the Leonids is the one storm that actually exceeded expectations, once, by a wide margin back in 2001. That one was spectacular, and today’s Astronomy Picture of the Day is a composite image from the same storm. I personally saw two fascinating fireballs that time, breaking up into multiple parts and leaving a trail of bright debris – the kind of display that one cannot actually observe in silence – while my own count of meteors spotted in one night went from the previous record of thirteen to over three hundred.

And yet, I have one meteor captured on film, and that’s not any of the images within this post. Not through lack of trying, either – it’s just that most times the displays have been very weak, with the added factor that the camera is only pointing in one direction so it’s easy enough to be aimed away from the really cool burst. And that night in 2001? The film I had available on short notice was absolute crap for long exposures and produced nothing but grainy blotches. One of the brilliant fireballs might have registered, had I been aimed at it and not at the ‘radiant’ that was supposed to produce most of the activity.

long exposure over windy palmThe radiant is where each of the storms get their names. It is the part of the sky that is facing into the debris that causes a meteor, so the majority will appear to be emanating from that point – in this case, that’s the constellation Leo. One of those bright fireballs, however, appeared close to the horizon and traveled parallel to it, more or less towards the radiant. What’s happening is that meteor storms are bits of junk left in the orbital path of comets, some of the stuff that produces the visible tail as they approach the sun, and each year the Earth encounters this halo of stuff on its own orbit of the sun. The radiant is the point that faces into the wind, as it were, straight off the nose of the Earth – the planet rotates, and with it the sky, but it’s traveling in one particular direction, and in November that’s towards Leo. But as Earth enters this cloud of meteoroids, they may have their own inherent travel directions, not to mention being redirected by the gravitational pull of the planet, so while most of the meteors we might see originate from one direction, they can come from just about anywhere.

Perhaps the most interesting thing about meteors is their size, which are typically about as small as a grain of sand; the fireballs that we can see sometimes might get as big as a baseball or so. And we’re usually not seeing the meteor itself, but the air around it that gets superheated by the velocity of the meteor.

The streaks in these images are not meteors, but the stars themselves, cruising across the sky as the Earth rotates during the long exposures. In the image here with the palm tree, the gaps in the paths are caused by scattered clouds blowing across the frame, too high to catch any light from the ground and so not actually visible, while the palm tree was illuminated by a distant streetlight and is weaving in the same wind that was driving the clouds, thus the selective blur. While in the image at the top of the post, there is a telltale streak seen at upper right – but it’s not a meteor. It’s actually an Iridium flare, the reflection of the sun from an Iridium communications satellite, typically lasting only a few seconds – I did not know one was scheduled for that evening, and was only doing a star trail exposure over the lake. The glows down on the horizon were expected, being the light from nearby cities, but the blue hazes in the sky are of unknown origin – I’m inclined to say they were because of crappy film (I had been given stacks of old negative film, including several rolls of off-brand stuff, and was blowing off a lot of experiments with it.)

By the way, that photo at top? The foci of all those arcs, the one bright point that isn’t apparently ‘moving,’ is Polaris, the north star. That was intentional, of course.

So if you’re inclined, go out and see what can be spotted, and bear in mind that meteor storms are not limited to the peak evenings, but may have activity before and after peak as well. Not to mention that any night might net you a few, since they can occur at any time – the storms are just known periods of high activity. But dark sky areas, at least, will help you see more, and are almost a necessity for long exposure photography.

A quick note about that photo at APOD, since this is a common thing anymore and it’s more than a little misleading. The Earth is always turning, so the stars are always moving, and long exposures will show this as the streaks seen in the images on this page, unless a tracking apparatus is used to counteract this motion. Even a 30-second exposure can show movement, depending on where the camera is aimed. But if a tracking system is used, then the ground-based details (like the silhouette of the spires in the APOD image) will blur instead, and/or be superimposed in multiple positions in a composite image. So a photo showing a multitude of meteor tracks like that one is, to put it directly, heavily edited, and will not be created “in camera” in any way – there’s a very good chance that the silhouette existed in none of the frames, and was added afterward for interest.

It’s always up to the individual (or an editor) to decide what constitutes ‘acceptable’ digital editing and all that, but the increasing tendencies to use it for astrophotography is at least a bit misleading to those who want to attempt their own shots, or expect to get motionless stars when doing exposures long enough to capture meteors or faint objects. As far as I’m concerned, if you have to composite several frames just to make an interesting image, you might as well throw in a nebula and a starship while you’re at it…

star trails against palm silhouette

Still not over

autumn sweetgum Liquidambar styraciflua leaf against fallen bald cypress Taxodium distichum needlesWhen the weather wasn’t bad, I was tied up, and when I had free time, the weather was terrible. Plus, the terrible weather was enough to take the leaves from the trees in most places. Thus, the autumn color season danced away from me this year, but I think it avoided a lot of people, so I’m not going to feel too badly about it.

So when the clear skies and my availability finally synchronized yesterday and today, I could only do selective compositions – not much of a burden, since these are what I often pursue anyway. A nearby bald cypress tree (Taxodium distichum) had dropped all of its needles early, as they are wont to do – this is where the name comes from, actually – forming a bed for a solitary sweetgum (Liquidambar styraciflua) leaf that caught a soft beam of light peering through the branches. This is one of the few trees in the immediate area that produces red leaves in the fall; most of the others are yellow and brown, and often not very vivid at that, so this is a small representation of what’s visible on a larger scale anyway. The temperature has dropped but hasn’t become ‘cold’ yet (The Girlfriend might disagree at times,) so the trees are looking threadbare yet the ground remains green when not obscured by leaves, and the rain has even brought new growth in places. Curiously, the rose bush that took a beating early this year and looked almost dead all summer suddenly sprouted new growth and a few blossoms at the end of the season, and has more leaves on it now than it has had since May…

backlit leaves turning colors
Not everything has changed, either, but most of what has changed has fallen, so the nice landscape views are none too visible anywhere. Just one of those weaker years.

I am obligated to report that the arthropod life has not all vanished. The pale green assassin bugs (Zelus luridus) are, in fact, quite active all over the place; I leaned into a low tree for shots of one in particular, and immediately found another walking up my arm. Since this was at my right elbow, I have no shots of this – I’ll let others dick around with shitty phone piccies, while I’ll try for different compositions.

pale green assassin bug Zelus luridus poised on leaf
There will be more assassin photos coming along in a bit, especially if I get what I’m trying for, but right now I’m going to fall back onto our old friends.

Carolina mantis Stagmomantis carolina in longneedle pineThe family of mantids that I observed in the yard all spring and summer seem to have vanished, but a few of the Carolina mantids (Stagmomantis carolina) are hanging out at the nearby pond. Both were sluggish on my first encounter, since they hadn’t a chance to warm themselves much yet, but they soon became as active as normal. Unfortunately, the wind also started to pick up, swinging the branches about wildly, and focus on the smaller insects (about as long as my thumb) became impossible.

Earlier this week, while the temperature hovered around 12°c (54°f) and the rain was light but persistent, I found a Chinese mantis sitting at the base of a column in front of a store in town. I scooped it up gently, and initially it was so sluggish that it appeared more of a model than a living thing, but it roused itself slightly at the threat and started stumbling off; I placed it on a post out of harm’s way, surprised to still find one in the area. I didn’t have my camera along for that trip, so no photos of that one. But I’ll provide a large-scale shot of the other Carolina mantis from yesterday, just to make up for the lack of posts recently.

Carolina mantis Stagmomantis carolina looking threating in the fluffy flowers
mushrooms and wild onionsRains, naturally, bring out the mushrooms. These are part of the first “fairy ring” I’ve ever seen, a nearly-complete circle of mushrooms. But they occurred in mixed lighting and the contrast prevented any decent images of the entire ring, so I went in close for a few dancing with the wild onions that are common in the area, which make the task of mowing the lawn a notably fragrant experience.

a pair of sliders basking on a log
I only had a brief opportunity for this subject and couldn’t shoot a lot of frames, so this isn’t quite what I was aiming for. A pair of sliders was basking on a log as I approached, but they’re distinctly easy to spook in this pond, and both tumbled into the water as I was firing off frames. The conditions fooled the meter and the turtles themselves got a little washed out, but their reflections look sharp, as well as showing some of the color of the nearby foliage and sky. This was from yesterday; today when I checked the area, the light was completely different and the entire region in shadow, so I didn’t have the opportunity to improve on the shot, plus the turtles bailed the log even faster. So it goes.

Rambur's forktail Ischnura ramburii damselfly
But the light was much better in another location, so I chased a few shots of an anxious damselfly, probably a Rambur’s forktail (Ischnura ramburii.) Like the turtles, this one wasn’t enamored of my presence and didn’t hang around for the full photo session. I blame the influences of social-media and the internet.

pale green assassin bug Zelus luridus almost hidden among leavesAnd to close, another of the pale green assassins, because I liked how all the elements fitted together, plus it’s a decent scale shot. Often enough, this is exactly how many subjects first appear, and to spot them one has to be able to see the change in pattern, the unexpected element that signifies something other than the normal botany; for the Carolina mantis on the white flowers above, the only thing I spotted initially was a leg, out of place because no twigs or leaf stems should have been present among the flower blossoms. It’s a good trait to develop, but don’t ask me how to do it or how long it takes – I just realized that I’ve been doing it for a while now. Nor can I even say how good I am at it, because there’s no one going along behind me to tally all the critters that I miss ;-)

Monday color 40

unidentified variety of milkweed Asclepiadaceae blossoms
For this week’s Monday color we have a variety of milkweed flowers (family Asclepiadaceae,) looking somehow unreal, possibly due to the heavy haze light conditions. Milkweed species have a wide range of colors, from white to pale pink to deep orangey-red, but so far I have found none that seem to have orange flowers with this magenta center, so this might be a hybrid. Butterfly milkweeds are orange, but from what I can see, the color is the same throughout. I’ll leave it up to the horticulturalists and botanists to fret over.

A wide aperture allowed the background to go notably indistinct, and the flowers and buds being in nearly the same plane kept them sharp enough to be distinguished, but milkweed flowers look better from an angle other than straight down from the top – maybe I’ll feature further examples soon, for comparison.

Logistics, logistics

I said in the previous post that more would be coming “in a day or so” after I worked out some details. “Or so” apparently means “five days.” However, that’s nowhere near how long I’ve been waiting.

Back in 2010, I snagged a pair of images of a small unknown insect, one that flew away before I could do anything detailed, and this was before I had the macro options I do now. On examining the images during sorting, I realized I’d never seen anything of the like; it looked like a cross between a lacewing and a praying mantis, less than a centimeter in length.

unknown mantis fly probably Mantispidae
Without a lot to search on, I tried just using the term “mantis fly” and popped it up immediately. Almost certainly a member of the family Mantispidae, this one might well be a green mantisfly (Zeugomantispa minuta,) though the guide page doesn’t give a range of sizes; since this one had wings, I’m assuming it was a reproducing adult and not a larva. I have not seen one since – until, I thought, the other evening.

misidentified assassin bug Metapterini
I pootered this one circling the light and was delighted when I examined it, because I thought I’d finally found another example of a mantisfly. Getting the preliminary photos was a challenge, because this one was about the size of a mosquito and showed no reluctance in flying off, so it would have to be in some kind of enclosure. Unfortunately, the only enclosure I had that would work for the short working distance of this magnification was already in use, as a terrarium housing the very spiders that this guy was initially captured to feed. I ended up lying another small aquarium on its side and shining a bright light in from the top, because I’m sneaky; while the side (formerly top) through which I was aiming the camera was wide open, the insect was attracted to the light so the two times it tried to fly off, it simply went against the acrylic above it (former side) and returned to the leaf. After the initial shots, I popped it into the spider terrarium while I tried to figure out a way to handle this more effectively.

The terrarium only has a thin bit of gauzy fabric stretched over the top, which I thought was sufficient – this post is full of mistaken assumptions. Overnight my subject disappeared, and on a subsequent night I watched several other small insects simply crawl through the openings in the fabric, so that needs to be replaced with something much finer, probably a bit of silkscreen. In the meantime I picked up four 5×7 frames from the dollar store and used the glass to make a 5x5x7 enclosure strictly for photography, and a few pieces of glass to modify other aquariums I have, because acrylic is absolute shit to shoot through. And finally, just now, I sat down to write this up and dig out the old photo you saw at top.

If you thought they looked significantly different, good eye: they’re not related, and the latter one is certainly not a mantisfly. It’s a variety of threadlegged assassin bug, indicated easily by the proboscis on the head; possibly tribe Metapterini, of the subfamily Emesinae from the family Reduviidae (of the clan Macleod – sorry.) Another variety can be seen here.

So, abruptly, I crashed into disappointment strictly from working on this post – I’m going to go ahead and blame that on you if you don’t mind. But while looking through BugGuide.net for further details on the still-elusive mantisflies, I came across this photo (part of a series that provides positive identification,) which looked remarkably familiar, so now it seems I have at least identified those eggs and larvae. This, however, is also a facet of frustration because it means that I had a hatching of the very subject I’d been looking for and didn’t realize it, nor did I ever see an adult.

Now, while searching back through the photo archives to find that mantisfly, I came across the next few images which reminded me of something I’d forgotten about. In my old place, I had an inkjet printer sitting on a hutch atop my desk, before I determined that they were complete wastes of technology and effort and switched to a laser printer, never to return. And one day I glanced up casually to come face-to-face with a spider peering at me from the print delivery slot.

funnel weaver spider Agelenidae living in my goddamn printer
This was some variety of funnel weaver, family Agelenidae, and you may well take this as a reflection of either my sporadic printer use or my terrible housekeeping abilities or perhaps that I lived in something akin to a shed, but it was none of those things. It was high summer, and yes I lived alongside a wooded area, but overall the place was clean and not overrun with spiders; this one has simply found its way in and liked the printer for some reason, and while I can’t pin down a particular time frame from when I could confirm it had not been there, this may have happened literally overnight.

The nature of funnel weavers is that they create a large horizontal sheet web that rolls up in one corner into a tube or funnel, usually in a natural niche someplace, and within this tube they spend most of their time, hidden away from predators while awaiting something to fall into their web. At times you may see one sitting out in the open sheet, but most times it will vanish into the tube at the least provocation, and the one on my desk was definitely disposed to this behavior, disappearing deep into the guts of the printer. I wasn’t really inclined to leave it there, and will readily admit that I was more than a little creeped out on my initial encounter. But how to remove it?

funnel weaver spider Agelenidae flushed out with free food
It didn’t take long. All I did was go out and collect a live ant to throw into the sheet, and in a flash, the spider emerged triumphantly to partake of this free meal, no doubt congratulating itself on the choice homebuilding locale. This delight was short-lived, however, because immediately after I got the photos, the shop-vac came into play before the spider could retreat away from the effective suction, and my printer was clean once again.

Getting back to the subject of flying insects and macro photography, this is something I’ve struggled with for years. Any time something can fly away, naturally getting macro photos is tricky; depending on the focal length and magnification, you might have to loom very close, and this can be enough to provoke the subject to fly off, or it may simply do so because it has no desire to march around on whatever leaf you provided. The goal is to have an enclosure where it cannot escape, and in times past I have used the bathroom (small enough to find the subject again – sometimes) and a variety of aquariums/terrariums. Since acrylic will seriously affect image quality and scratches if you breathe on it, you’ll want glass – but you also want a very short working distance so the subject cannot simply move far enough from the glass that you can’t get the magnification you’re after. This means smaller enclosures, like the 5x5x7 one I mentioned (right now just an open box that can be placed over anything, and sealed off on top by screen or another piece of glass or a book or whatever,) and perhaps even smaller – the one I’m about to modify measures something like 5×7 inches broad by about 1 inch deep, and of course there’s this one that currently houses the spiders.

It would be far better without any glass at all, since even a good piece of glass will offer some distortion if you’re not shooting straight through it, but that means some kind of booth or hood that seals off both you and the flying subject so they can’t get very far, and setting up something like that could be problematic (not to mention finding a place to put it.) Maybe someday I’ll attempt using a large wardrobe or a closet, but right now I have nothing of the sort available. But keep checking back, because I’ll be testing out the new options soon enough.

Monday color 39

green lynx spider Peucetia viridans on butterfly bush Buddleia davidii in infrared 720nm
I was going to out this one in its own post, but it certainly makes an entry for Monday color that won’t be duplicated in hue anytime soon – or, well, maybe it will, if I dig out the old camera.

This is infrared; specifically, using a 720nm IR filter on an old Canon Pro90 digital camera that has no IR blocking filter of its own. Digital sensors are also sensitive to infrared light to a degree, which can make exposures a little squirrelly sometimes, so most cameras now have IR blocking filters permanently mounted over the sensor. To see something like this, you need a different filter, almost exactly the opposite in fact: it must block nearly all visible light but let infrared through. These aren’t hard to find, and the expense varies, but this one in particular allows IR that is just past ‘visible’ light (which we stop seeing as it passes 700nm or so,) while others are available that block up to 900nm or higher.

The photo was an experiment, to see if the green lynx spider (Peucetia viridans) visible to the left produced any curious effect in IR – essentially, the answer is, “no.” The different hues seen here are only slightly tweaked for contrast from the original image, just to reduce some of the monochrome effect. Foliage reflects IR to a large degree, some kinds more than others, while bark and the sky reflect very little and usually go quite dark. Since IR light is sparse, exposure times have to go long even on bright sunny days (which are pretty much a necessity anyway,) so I was lucky enough to have no wind and a placid subject for this shot. The setting, by the way, is a butterfly bush, Buddleia davidii.

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